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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29515443">All In Tangles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticsugar/pseuds/galacticsugar'>galacticsugar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tumblr prompts - ways to say i love you [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>5 Seconds of Summer (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Drinking, M/M, Pining, Swearing, Tumblr Prompt, projecting onto luke hemmings as usual, slight angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:15:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29515443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticsugar/pseuds/galacticsugar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke has watched Ashton hug eight different people in the last twenty minutes. If it were Luke, that wouldn’t be anything noteworthy. But Ashton’s not usually so touchy, and watching him eagerly embrace their friends has Luke feeling some type of way. He’s not sure what way. But he’s also a little drunk, so he’s not too worried about it. </p><p>***</p><p>for the tumblr prompt "cross my heart and hope to die"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tumblr prompts - ways to say i love you [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>All In Tangles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayeHunter/gifts">FayeHunter</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for the tumblr prompt "cross my heart and hope to die" from the lovely <a href="https://pixiegrl.tumblr.com">emily</a>.</p><p>this one was actually inspired by some discussion of luke with glitter in his beard, which i then tried to warp into fitting with the prompt. (i don't think i'm doing prompts right.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a long time since Luke has thrown a party. He can’t remember the last time his house was filled to the brim with his friends and music and laughter. It has to have been at least a year, though. A full year that he’s spent mostly either at home with Petunia or with the guys, working on music. It’s been good for him to be forced to slow down, to learn what it means to be alone and take care of himself and let himself just <em> be</em>. </p><p>But it’s finally safe again, and Luke’s house has come alive. It’s not a crazy party; just a dozen or so friends, but there’s a special buzz of excitement in the air. They’ve all been stuck in cages for so long; now that they’re out, they’re vibrating with enthusiasm and this strong sense of appreciation for each other. After being forced to keep their distance all year, suddenly everyone wants to let everyone else know just how much they love them. </p><p>Luke has watched Ashton hug eight different people in the last twenty minutes. If it were Luke, that wouldn’t be anything noteworthy. But Ashton’s not usually so touchy, and watching him eagerly embrace their friends has Luke feeling some type of way. He’s not sure what way. But he’s also a little drunk, so he’s not too worried about it. </p><p>After the first few weeks of quarantine, he’d mostly stopped getting drunk alone at his house just for something to do. It got old, and it wasn’t good for his mind or his body. So this feeling, just the other side of sober, with his skin buzzing and mind ever so slightly hazy, is one he hasn’t experienced in quite some time. He likes it, maybe a little too much, because it makes him smiley and outgoing and lets him be the charming person he wishes he could be when he’s completely sober.</p><p>He watches with a small smile on his face as Ashton pulls a ninth person in for a hug, and he finally cracks. “Hey Ash!” He has to yell over the pulsing Eurodance playing on his fancy bluetooth speaker. Ashton’s head jerks around and he grins when he locates Luke across the room, leaning on the kitchen island. “When do I get my hug?” Luke pushes his lips into a dramatic pout and makes puppy dog eyes.</p><p>Ashton comes over, shaking his head at Luke’s dramatics as he crosses the room. But when he gets close, he opens his arms in invitation, and Luke sets down his drink on the counter and throws himself at Ashton. Ashton grunts at the force of it and wraps his arms around Luke, letting Luke burrow into him a little harder than he let anybody else. He knows Luke needs it. Luke always needs it. He presses his head into Ashton’s shoulder and sighs.</p><p>“Ow, what the fuck!” Ashton screeches and pulls his head away, pushing Luke’s shoulders back at the same time. Luke looks at him questioningly, a little hurt at being shoved away. Ashton brings a hand to his neck and rubs at it tentatively. “Your beard hurts,” he says with a smirk.</p><p>Right, the beard. Luke had figured there was no better time to experiment with a beard than while he was basically stuck at home hibernating like a grizzly bear for the winter, and he discovered that he kind of likes it. Or maybe he just likes being lazy about shaving. Either way, he’s sporting a pretty thick beard these days, and he had kind of forgotten there was anything different about his face until literally everyone who came through his door tonight commented on the beard.</p><p>“Sorry,” Luke replies, running his fingers over his cheek. He supposes it <em> is </em> awfully scratchy. “I  keep forgetting about it.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Ashton says with a shrug. “Just caught me off guard.” </p><p>“Do you like it?” Plenty of people have offered their opinion on Luke’s beard, but Ashton has been carefully coy about it. It’s driving Luke crazy, because Ashton’s opinion is really the only one that matters to him.</p><p>Ashton cocks his head, shakes it back and forth a little while his eyes roam Luke’s face, leans in to inspect the beard more closely. He’s such a fucking drama queen but Luke eats it up; loves having Ashton’s full attention on him. Suddenly Ashton’s hand is on Luke’s face, fingers gentle and warm, and Luke’s stomach flips. He parts his lips automatically, lizard brain expecting lips on his just at the mere touch of a hand on his face. He’s drunk enough that he finds it funny instead of embarrassing, and he giggles to himself as Ashton studies his face.</p><p>It’s a good thing he’s drunk, because it means Ashton doesn’t even bother to question Luke’s giggle, he just smiles fondly. See, this. <em> This </em> is the look Luke wishes he could get when he’s sober. There’s a little something extra in Ashton’s eyes, an emotion Luke can’t entirely place but it makes him feel warm and content in a way nothing else does. </p><p>He <em> knows </em> it’s not there when Ashton looks at him when he’s sober. Normal Luke isn’t good enough. Normal Luke doesn’t deserve it. But that doesn’t stop him from trying; doesn’t stop him from laughing at all of Ashton’s jokes and doing his best to impress Ashton with the few tools he has to work with, anything to get Ashton to look at him this way. And sometimes it almost works. Sometimes when Luke sings, Ashton looks at him <em> almost </em> the way he’s looking at him now.</p><p>Ashton pulls his hand away from Luke’s face and holds it up for Luke to see sparkling speckles on the pads of his fingers. “How the fuck did you get glitter in your beard?”</p><p>The words make Luke deflate a little, far too casual, and also not at all addressing Luke’s original question. “Made out with a fairy earlier,” Luke says, rolling his eyes. He honestly doesn’t know exactly how he ended up with glitter in his beard, but it’s also not at all surprising. He’s no stranger to dusting a little glitter on his cheeks or his eyelids; it stands to reason that some rogue glitter would end up in his beard every now and then. </p><p>Ashton squints at him like he’s trying to gauge whether there’s any truth behind Luke’s statement. Obviously he hasn’t made out with any fairies, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility that the glitter could be a gift from an amorous partygoer. Luke is very <em> friendly </em> when he’s drunk, and Ashton knows it. “I do like it,” Ashton says, ignoring Luke's commentary. “Makes you look older. Like a professor.”</p><p>“Is that a good thing?” Luke asks. He takes another drink, and Ashton watches him, that fond smile never wavering.</p><p>“I think so,” Ashton says. “Professor Luke.” </p><p>“What am I the Professor of?” Luke finishes his drink and sets the empty glass on the counter, a satisfying <em> ping </em> ringing out at the contact.</p><p>Ashton purses his lips thoughtfully. “Professor of Partying?” he offers.</p><p>“Eh. I’m an Associate Professor of Partying at best.”</p><p>Ashton chuckles and leans against the counter, letting his shoulder press against Luke’s. “You’re always so hard on yourself, Luke. You could totally be a Professor of Partying. A tenured professor, even.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t even know what that means,” Luke says, turning to look at Ashton and reeling back when he realizes how close their faces are.</p><p>Ashton slips an arm around Luke’s shoulders and shakes him a little. “Means you’re a <em> permanent </em> Professor of Partying, mate.”</p><p>“Oh, well in that case. Not a bad gig. If I’m drunk all the time, maybe people will like me all the time.” Okay. Maybe the last glass of tequila just hit, because that’s a lot more honesty than he prefers to share this early in the evening.</p><p>Ashton goes quiet, and Luke can feel Ashton’s eyes on him, but he refuses to look over. He lets his own eyes glaze over as he watches the people scattered around his living room, slightly blurred as if they're behind dirty glass.</p><p>“What does that mean?” Ashton asks quietly, angling his head to try to meet Luke’s eyes.</p><p>“Nothing,” Luke mumbles, turning around to refill his glass. He has his hand wrapped around a bottle of tequila when Ashton gently puts his own hand on Luke’s wrist to stop him, bracelets tickling the hair on Luke’s forearm.</p><p>“Not nothing,” Ashton says softly. Luke loves and hates this part of Ashton. He knows when something isn’t right and he’s determined to try to fix it. Sometimes Luke doesn’t want to be fixed. “What did you mean?”</p><p>Luke sighs and lets his hand drop from the tequila bottle, leaning against the counter with his head drooped, hair tangling with his eyelashes. “You know what I mean.”</p><p>He sees Ashton’s hand lift from the counter, and then it’s in Luke's hair, brushing the delinquent curls back from his eyes. Luke tries not to lean into it, tries not to be unbearably obvious. Ashton doesn’t say anything, quietly waiting Luke out as he lets his fingers gently twist in his hair.</p><p>The problem is, Luke doesn’t know where to start. How do you tell someone you love that you don’t think you’re worthy of them loving you back? And really, it’s not news to Ashton. He knows how Luke’s brain works; knows all the ways he beats himself up and tells himself he’s not enough. Hell, sometimes Ashton realizes it’s happening even when Luke doesn’t, and he’ll go out of his way to throw some reassuring words Luke’s direction, trying to build him back up before he has a chance to get himself to rock bottom.</p><p>“Just the usual,” Luke finally says, once he’s unable to stand the silence between them any longer. He always breaks first. He opens his mouth to say more; to explain himself further, but the words don’t come.</p><p>Ashton nods, moving his hand from Luke’s hair to rest at the base of his neck. He's going easy on Luke. “I like you all the time.” </p><p>“I know,” Luke replies. He does know Ashton likes him all the time. He just also knows that Ashton likes him <em> best </em> when he’s drunk, and that’s the only version of himself that could ever hope for the kind of attention from Ashton that he wants the most. The kind he can barely even admit to himself that he wants.</p><p>“Can I tell you a secret?” Ashton asks. Luke looks at him questioningly, and Ashton’s small smile is enough encouragement for Luke to nod. Ashton’s smile gets wider. “I like you best before the party starts.” </p><p>“No you don’t,” Luke argues, assuming this is just one of Ashton’s ploys to try to make him feel better.</p><p>“I do,” Ashton says, voice bright and soft at the same time. “When it’s just you and me, getting set up. That’s my favorite part. You’re always in a good mood, smiling and goofing around. I get a little sad when other people start showing up. Means I have to share you.”</p><p>Luke tamps down a smile, remembering all of the little moments he's had with Ashton before parties. There have been a lot of them over the years. Back when they lived together, they practically had party preparation down to a routine. There was a party at Ashton’s house nearly every weekend. Luke doesn’t remember much from most of those parties. But he does remember the moments before they started, dancing around Ashton’s living room with him as they pushed furniture out of the way, both of them giggling until they lost their breath.</p><p>“I don’t believe you,” Luke says, not entirely sure he believes <em> himself </em> as he says it. “You love me when I’m drunk. You look at me differently. Better.”</p><p>Ashton scoots closer to Luke and lets his hand drop, bringing his arm tightly around Luke’s waist. His face is right next to Luke’s ear when he speaks. “Did you ever think maybe I look at you like that all the time, and you just see it differently when you’re drunk?”</p><p>Luke’s chest flutters, and he doesn’t know if it’s from the feeling of Ashton’s breath on his ear or the words themselves. Classic Ashton, saying something annoyingly insightful that forces Luke to rethink his entire perspective on the world.</p><p>“I hadn’t really,” Luke admits, leaning heavily into Ashton’s side. Maybe this is another reason he likes being drunk. He can’t be held accountable for his clinginess. </p><p>“Well, I do.”</p><p>Luke looks at him skeptically. This entire conversation is fucking with his head. He doesn’t know what any of it means. “I don’t even know what that means,” he says. </p><p>Ashton shrugs, encouraging Luke to drop his head onto his shoulder with the movement. Ashton doesn't complain about the scratchiness of his beard this time as Luke burrows his head into Ashton's neck. “Means I love you just as much when you’re not drunk as when you are, for one.” He pauses, fingers tracing the marble pattern on the countertop as he tries to gauge where Luke’s head is at. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” he adds, cutting Luke off just before he opens his mouth to argue. </p><p>Luke still doesn’t really know what it means. But he doesn’t have another drink, and Ashton doesn’t leave his side for the rest of the night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm on tumblr <a href="https://staticsounds.tumblr.com">@staticsounds</a>; come say hi!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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